


Under the Festival Lights

by fiftymillionstars



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiftymillionstars/pseuds/fiftymillionstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s become tradition for the twelve of them to go to this harvest festival every sweep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Festival Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cloudyidealist@tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cloudyidealist%40tumblr).



> this is another older piece written as a birthday present for a good friend of mine.
> 
> i am shamelessly in love with the whole ~*~romantic angst~*~ trope I apologise

>   
>  _Well if the pot won’t hold our love,_   
>  _If the pot won’t hold our love,_   
>  _If the pot won’t hold our love,_   
>  _Then we’ll dash it to the ground!_   
> 

They first meet on a festival night. It’s one of the few random traditions left over from what the children call the Old Era, when adults still lived planetside and Troll culture flourished. Now, with all the adults in far-off space, leaving only Mother grubs and lusii behind, Troll culture on Alternia is moving steadily towards its grave. Entire cities, once flourishing, teeling with trolls, now lay empty and silent, great stone edifices beginning to crumble as time takes its toll.  

Some elements of Troll culture do remain, preserved by the robotic drones, Mother Grubs, and lusii. The children also keep alive certain cultural aspects, mostly festivals or similar celebratory holidays. But they are a capricious bunch, and quite often stop honoring traditions simply because they no longer want to.  

The festival currently in full swing is celebrated over a three-night spread at the cusp between Alternia’s summer and fall. When farming was still standard practice on the planet, farmers would be preparing to harvest their crops. This festival was originally a harvest celebration, giving thanks to the earth for its bounty. (The only child in attendance aware of this is an inquisitive rustblood accompanied by a lusus that looks like a miniature kangaroo graced with a curling pair of ram’s horns. The others see it merely as a glorified party, though perhaps some of their number are aware it was once something more.)

Amidst the tight knots of laughing, squealing children, there is a little girl who stands slightly apart from her peers, not a member of any of the wandering groups. She has just arrived and is cautiously scanning the crowd with her yellow-gold eyes. Her short black hair is swept upward in a simple style, unusual for a troll, and somewhere along her journey she’s picked wildflowers and slipped them into her hair. She’s wearing a pale green dress, short-sleeved with a fluffy skirt that settles just above her knees. She’s remembered to make the sash just the right shade of jade green.

She’s looking for her friends. Though she’s only ever talked with them via Trollian, they’ve exchanged pictures and occasionally chatted with webcams, so she knows what she’s looking for. She’s nervous and excited; her oasis home is sufficiently isolated from the hives of her peers, and she’s never had a good reason to make the two-night walk before.

She’s hesitant and shy; in her four sweeps she’s only very rarely come into physical contact with other trolls, and here there are hundreds of them, laughing and yelling and running about. She hasn’t the faintest idea where to start, and she’s more than a little scared.

A shout from her right: “Kanaya! Hey-- Kanaya!”

Kanaya turns, excited and nervous and flustered. Another girl is quickly approaching her, expertly weaving her way through the crowd with one arm upraised, a big grin on her face. She has wild dark hair that looks as if most of its volume consists of tangles and a pair of sharp, fanglike canines that mirror Kanaya’s own. She hasn’t bothered to dress up, instead opting for what looks like everyday clothes.

“Vriska--?” Kanaya takes a hesitant step forward, unsure. Her mouth is ready to smile but her shyness holds it back.

“Thats me!” Vriska affirms, puffing out her chest a little with pride. Kanaya beams.

“It’s great to finally meet you!” Kanaya tells Vriska. She wants to hug the other girl but holds herself back, not wanting to make a bad first impression.

“Yeah, same!” Vriska grins. One hand reaches up to gently brush at the flowers in Kanaya’s hair. “These are pretty! They look good on you.”

Kanaya blushes, smiling happily. “Thank you!"

They move off into the crowds. At one point Vriska reaches out to take Kanaya’s hand so they don’t get separated, causing a faint dusting of green to appear on Kanaya’s cheeks.

The two partake in some of the various games and entertainments to be found at the festival, laughing and having a grand old time. They buy a small bag of sweetmeats to share, and as the night progresses, the entire group of twelve slowly completes itself.

The highlight of the evening is a Tahēvāra, an Alternian version of a maypole where, instead of strips of cloth, long strips of dyed animal fur are used; after the pole is tied, a small herd animal is killed at the base of the pole, after this both animal and pole are set alight. The performance draws gasps and cheers from the watching crowd.

As the fire slowly consumes the wooden pole and dead bleatbeast, the sun begins to peek over the vast Alternian horizon. It’s at this point Kanaya realises she has no plans for the day. Kanaya hesitantly confesses to the group and is slightly overwhelmed by the positive reactions. Most everybody offers to let her stay (except for Eridan and Feferi for obvious reasons), and Vriska gets in a brief tussle with Terezi to decide whose hive Kanaya’s going to stay at. In the end Vriska wins, refuses to acknowledge Equius’s offer at all, and possessively throws her arms around Kanaya, causing her to turn a lovely shade of green.

“We’ll have a sleepover! It’ll be really fun!” Vriska insists. Kanaya grins and nods, very much looking forward to spending the day at Vriska’s. Vriska grins in response and kanaya thinks her cheeks might be a bit blue-- but it’s probably just the lighting.

The two plus Equius scurry off in the direction of Vriska’s hive, waving hasty goodbyes to the rest of the group. Towards the end of the walk Kanaya is stumbling and yawning, not used to being up this late. Vriska offers to give her a piggyback ride and Kanaya, ever the blushing maiden, gratefully accepts.

The two girls stumble into Vriska’s hive just as the bright sun clears the horizon. They head directly for Vriska’s respiteblock, Vriska shedding various outer layers of clothing as she goes along and Kanaya blearily picking them up for her. Kanaya borrows one of Vriska’s bigger shirts to use as pyjamas, and the two slide into Vriska’s recuperacoon and are asleep almost instantly.  
  
      

And the planet called Alternia turns, slowly moving around its sun once, twice, thrice, and once more for good measure. Four sweeps later, to the day.  
  
      

Kanaya wakes in Vriska’s recuperacoon wearing Vriska’s shirt with one of Vriska’s arms loosely draped over her side. She lets her eyes fall closed again, sighing contentedly. Vriska’s still sleeping, and with her face this close Kanaya can see each and every individual eyelash. Kanaya wants to lean just a little closer and press a gentle kiss to Vriska’s lips, but she refrains from doing so. Vriska lets out a small puff of air that might have been a sigh. Kanaya smiles softly and blows a puff of air back.

It’s become tradition for the twelve of them to go to this harvest festival every sweep. It’s a chance for all of them to get together and enjoy each other’s physical company. Kanaya takes the two nights to walk to the festival, typically arriving midday through the first day of celebrations, and she spends the following two days at Vriska’s hive.

Outside vriska’s hive the sun has fully set but the first moon is only half-risen. Vriska shows no signs of waking anytime soon, so Kanaya eases herself from under Vriska’s arm and slips out of the recuperacoon, leaning back in to place a breathy kiss on Vriska’s forehead.

It’s during moments like this Kanaya can pretend that she and Vriska are matesprits instead of merely close friends with no concept of personal space. In the four sweeps since they first met, Kanaya has acted as Vriska’s moirail on enough occasions to be able to consider them in a moriallegiance, though Vriska has never said anything to that regard and Kanaya does not want to end up trapped in the pale quadrant.

Kanaya makes her way to the washblock, taking a nice long shower, making sure to wash all she sopor slime out of her hair and from under her nails. She slips into her dress, still pale green; this year it’s sleeveless with a long flowing skirt that reaches down to her ankles, loose and free. The sash is a thick jade cord that ties in the front.

After Kanaya’s finished her morning grooming session, she returns to Vriska’s respiteblock. The other troll is still sound asleep.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Kanaya calls, deciding Vriska’s slept long enough. She receives no response. Sighing and laughing slightly, Kanaya leans over the edge of the recuperacoon and brushes a few stray strands of hair out of Vriska’s face before gently poking her cheek. No response.

“Vriska,” Kanaya says softly, in a cajoling tone. Vriska’s eyelids flutter rapidly and then cease to move-- she _is_ awake. Kanaya grins wickedly, fingers lightly dancing across Vriska’s neck, right-- _there._

Vriska jolts back as if electrocuted and claps a hand to her neck. “You _tickled_ me!” she accuses, incredulous. 

Kanaya laughs. “Time to get up."

Vriska takes an hour to get bathed and dressed, which Kanaya thinks is ridiculous considering that she also takes an hour to get ready and Vriska looks far less presentable than she. The two of them have a quick breakfast and head off for the fairgrounds. 

The festival is a noisy affair, brightly lit with solar-powered torches. A few entrepreneuring trolls have set up booths selling wares or passing amusements; booths selling edibles are manned by robots and the odd lusus. Tonight’s Tahēvāra is not yet set up; the ashes of last night’s still smoulder faintly, the occasional gleaming shard of bone peeking out of the fine gray soot.

Vriska makes off with another friend shortly after they arrive, leaving Kanaya to wander around solo until she bumps into someone she knows. Kanaya does just that, stopping at a cluster of wildflowers to pick some and put them in her hair. She buys a bag of candied almonds from a vendor and amiably walks around, munching aimlessly and enjoying the sights and sounds.

She briefly meets with Eridan and they have a nice discussion on why they were both so horrible at romance of the flushed variety. They walk and chat together for a while, enjoying the company, before they part ways. Kanaya bumps into Vriska several times, and each time Kanaya notices that Vriska seems quite tense; she’s antsy and snappish, and her knuckles are scraped as if she’s been fighting. While not unusual behaviour for Vriska, it is a far cry from her usual festival behaviour. Normally Vriska relaxes considerably and spends most of the day with Kanaya, laughing at the strangest things and cracking inappropriate jokes that leave Kanaya blushing dark green. Kanaya doesn’t know what’s bothering Vriska any more than she knows why Vriska’s ditched her tonight.

Despite Vriska’s mysterious attitude, the night wears on pleasantly, and Kanaya thoroughly enjoys herself. She partners with Aradia for a traditional dance, and the two laugh and giggle as they twirl about. Kanaya can’t help but notice that Aradia’s dressed nicer than usual, and she wonders why until she spies Aradia holding hands with Sollux later on in the evening. Kanaya feels a pang of jealousy at the sight-- she wishes terribly that she and Vriska could be enjoying the evening as a couple. Kanaya tells herself she’s come to terms with the fact that this will most likely never happen. It doesn’t stop her from being upset and hurt when Vriska’s romantic interests turn towards someone else, as they have often done during the last four sweeps. Kanaya recognises that she really doesn’t have the right to be hurt; after all, she’s never told Vriska how she feels.

All twelve meet up for lunch. They spend a pleasant hour catching up with current news. Everyone scatters to the wind after the meal; Vriska vanishes to whereabouts unknown, so Kanaya goes to help set up the Tahēvāra. It’s tricky work, getting the pole to stand just so, and it takes longer than Kanaya expected.

She buys herself more sweets as a reward for helping out. Kanaya isn’t entirely sure what to do next; if she was with Vriska even walking would be enjoyable-- oh, no, she wasn’t about to start thinking like a lovesick wriggler.

She passes the time partaking in idle festival amusements, buying a pair of dangling silver earrings and a couple other trinkets.

Soon the sky begins to lighten, heralding the sun’s rising. Kanaya seeks out Vriska and eventually finds her sat in front of a large rock, leaning against its surface. Vriska’s appearance is decidedly rumpled, and Kanaya thinks she may be beginning to display a black eye.

“Time to go?"      

Vriska glances up at Kanaya, nods, and hauls herself to her feet. They set off towards Vriska’s hive in uncomfortable silence.

“Are you all right, Vriska?” Kanaya asks about halfway through the walk. Vriska nods as a response but says nothing. Kanaya frowns, troubled. “Are you sure?”

Another nod.

They arrive at Vriska’s shortly before sunrise. It’s been a long night and Kanaya’s more than ready to throw in the towel, but Vriska doesn’t seem tired all. She’s jittery and can’t sit still, full of nervous energy.

Kanaya dresses for bed anyway, borrowing a worn set of Vriska’s clothing again. She’s about to slip into the recuperacoon when Vriska busrts into the room, clearly agitated.

“Wait,” Vriska says. “We need to talk.”

Kanaya pauses, one foot over the edge of the recuperacoon. “About what?”

“Things,” Vriska says informatively.

“What kind of things?” Kanaya presses.

“ _Things_.”

Kanaya sighs and withdraws her leg from the recuperacoon. “All right. What is it?”

Vriska opens her mouth and gesticulates vaguely, but no sound comes out.

Kanaya smiles tiredly. “I’d like to go to sleep soon, Vriska,” she says, not unkindly.

Vriska grimaces and nods. “I...” she begins. “You... Well--” Vriska pauses to take a breath. “What are we?” she blurts.

Kanaya blinks. “Trolls,” she responds, feeling vaguely like she’s missing something.

Vriska’s face screws up into a rather interesting expression. “Yeah, I know that, stupid,” she returns slightly huffily. “I meant us.”

Kanaya’s heart skips a beat. “Us?” There’s an us? she thinks giddily. Since when?

“Yes, us,” Vriska says impatiently.

Kanaya tries to reign in her racing thoughts. “We’re good friends.” She pauses, sensing that isn’t the answer Vriska’s looking for. “Aren’t we?”

The look on Vriska’s face is a good hint. Kanaya feels like she’s been punched in the gut. “No?” she asks faintly, wondering why Vriska picked now to drop this bomb and how long she can keep from crying.

“No,” Vriska affirms, and then continues hastily, “I’ve been thinking a lot recently and I had to tell you eventually, right? I just didn’t know how long I could keep up a friendship if _shit, Kanaya--_ ”

There are tears running down Kanaya’s cheeks and Vriska’s noticed. She closes the distance between them in four hasty strides, wrapping Kanaya up in a tight hug, murmuring “shit, no, I’m sorry, I’m a horrible troll, fuck, how did I ever think I was social, shit, I’m sorry, no...”

Kanaya’s frozen in the hug; she doesn’t really know what’s going on any more, much less how she should react. “I--” she starts, mouth moving completely independently of her brain. Shut up, shut up, she mentally screams. “What?” her mouth carries on, and Kanaya thinks that’s not so bad, but then “I’ve only been flushed for you for three sweeps” comes tumbling out and Kanaya mentally lets out a long, anguished wail at the same time Vriska pushes Kanaya back in order to get a look at her face. “Three sweeps, yes,” why was she still talking? “Three whole sweeps I’ve clung to this ridiculous infatuation but I’ve been too much of a coward to tell you so it serves me right that--” and suddenly Vriska’s lips are covering Kanaya’s, effectively cutting off anything else she was going to say.

The kiss is long and deep, causing dancing stars to appear behind Kanaya’s eyelids. Vriska’s holding her tight against her and Kanaya gratefully presses into the embrace, enjoying just how close she is and they were _kissing oh my god actual kissing!_

Their lips part eventually, but Vriska keeps her head close, nose brushing against Kanaya’s. 

“Oh,” Kanaya breathes, giddy from the kiss and exhaustion from the day.

“Yeah,” Vriska mumbles, gracing Kanaya with a lopsided grin. She’s put one of her hands on Kanaya’s cheek and is softly moving her thumb back and forth, a tiny smile on her face. Kanaya leans forward and places a quick kiss on Vriska’s cheek, smiling the whole time. 

They stand there for awhile, each enjoying the closeness of the other, and before long they both tumble into Vriska’s recuperacoon, foregoing any extraneous needs such as pyjamas. They drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

(The next nights at the festival Vriska and Kanaya walk around hand-in-hand, Kanaya beaming, Vriska snapping at anyone who dares question her. When lunchtime rolls around, the reaction from the group is a near-unanimous “It’s about fucking time”, accompanied by a sly grin from Nepeta. Everyone congratulates the two on “finally wising up and seeing what was right in fucking front of you for the past three sweeps,” as Karkat so elegantly puts it. It is, Kanaya thinks, one of the happiest days of her life.) 


End file.
